


Fascination

by Wolf_Lake



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Curious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Dominant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Humiliation, M/M, Omorashi, Piss kink, Sub Hank Anderson, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27516871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_Lake/pseuds/Wolf_Lake
Summary: Connor explores Hank's functions on a deeper level as he's always wished to do.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Fascination

Connor had always been fascinated by the functions of humans that he lacked. The need for oxygen, food, and water. The horrible communication skills humans shared, though Connor would hardly use the word ‘skills’ to describe how Hank would attempt to convey his feelings and opinions. Their jokes, their body hair and odor… It was all so human and it fascinated Connor to no end.

Hank  _ hated _ it. At least, that’s what Connor gathered. He would pester Hank with constant questions of how a food or drink tasted, which Hank would always exasperatedly explain that it’s hard to describe to someone who can’t really taste. Connor still asked anyway.

Hank also seemed to hate the more… invasive questions, about how Hank’s genitalia functioned (Connor’s was for the aesthetic). Connor knew he could browse the Internet for answers, and Hank told him as such, but he got a thrill out of  making Hank squirm.

As time went on, Connor’s curiosity worsened. Even when they entered a romantic relationship, to Connor’s delight, he still didn’t know how he could communicate his wants. It didn’t  take much research to determine that he had a watersports fetish.

He’d simulate Hank wetting himself often and would have to jerk himself off after. It was becoming quite the problem when Hank would dismiss himself to the restroom at work and Connor would want nothing more than to follow him, or stop him entirely and make him hold it.

Connor would have to sit hot and bothered until he could make some sort of reasonable escape to masturbate, his mind painting beautiful pictures. 

Of course, sex with Hank was good, but as he always did, Connor wanted  _ more.  _ It was really only a matter of time.

Connor had cornered Hank after he’d had a few too many beers when he was getting up to go to the bathroom.

“Stop,” mumbled Connor, getting up with Hank.

“What?” blurted Hank, appearing to be taken aback.

“Hold it,” specified Connor, walking a few predatory paces forward to catch Hank’s wrist. Hank gaped at him, his face going a beautiful splotchy red.

“You want me to…” said Hank, trailing off as his face went redder.

“Yes,” said Connor exasperatedly. Hank was silent for a concerning amount of time.

“Okay,” breathed Hank, finally. Connor’s cock gave an eager twitch and he glanced down to see it, all of its eight inches, tenting his ‘borrowed’ sweats. “How long have you wanted this?”

“Since before we entered a relationship,” answered Connor simply. It’d been over a year.

“Jesus, Connor-,” sighed Hank. “You coulda just asked.”

“I had assumed that the prospect of it would disgust you,” said Connor. He hadn’t expected Hank to have a fetish that was generally looked down upon but was pleasantly surprised. One flick of his eyes downward to Hank’s crotch confirmed that Hank wasn’t lying; his erection was very much visible in his boxer shorts.

“You assumed wrong,” grunted Hank, getting out of Connor’s grasp and returning to the couch. Connor’s eyebrows raised and his LED spun yellow as he took note of this imperative knowledge. He followed Hank to the couch and there was a new, thick layer of tension that wasn’t there before as Hank sipped on his beer. Connor was pleased for once to see him still drinking.

The movie they had put on continued to play, but it was only background noise; both of their eyes were on each other. Connor stared directly in Hank’s eyes, unrelenting. Hank was the one to break the eye contact, swearing under his breath and taking another swig of his beer. It wasn’t long before Hank was shifting in his seat on the couch, clearly trying to hold in his bladder. Connor knew he hadn’t gone to the restroom since the morning at the precinct. 

“Something wrong, Lieutenant?” drawled Connor with a smirk. Hank slowly shook his head, taking a shaky breath. He was clearly trying to compose himself, and Connor was very much glad to have such an effect on Hank. The worsening tent in Hank’s pants was evidence of that. “That’s what I thought.”

“Connor,” whined Hank, and it seemed to catch both of them off guard. Connor’s eyes widened and his pupils blew wider with them, blue tinging his cheeks.

“Say my name like that again,” ordered Connor, his hand snaking in his sweatpants to touch himself while maintaining eye contact with Hank.

“Connor, fuck,” whimpered Hank again, still squirming where he sat next to Connor on the couch. Hank’s eyes unsurprisingly went down to where Connor was lazily stroking himself and Connor gave a dry laugh.

“Like what you see, pretty boy?” asked Connor, his voice low with arousal. Hank nodded his affirmation and Connor watched his large, calloused hand twitch on the couch cushion. He so obviously wanted to touch himself, or piss- or both, but Connor wasn’t nearly close to letting him do either. He intended on torturing Hank until the man couldn’t hold back any longer. “Why don’t you come here, hmm?”

“Yes, sir,” said Hank without hesitation, closing the little space between them and sitting flush against Connor. Connor pulled Hank onto his lap without any strain, Hank eagerly wrapping his legs around him with a needy sound. Connor pressed their lips together, his hand fisting in Hank’s hair and pulling him even closer. Connor could tell with a scan that Hank was nearing his consumption limit, but that didn’t stop him.

“Get up,” panted Connor when they parted from their desperate kiss. Hank obeyed immediately. “Bedroom. Take the beer.”

“Yes, sir,” repeated Hank, taking the beer in his hand and following Connor to their shared bedroom. Connor stepped over Sumo, who seemed interested for a moment only to put his head back down and fall back asleep. Connor closed the door behind them for good measure.

“Drink the rest of that,” demanded Connor when they’d neared the bed. Hank tensed and did as Connor asked, downing the rest of the beer in just a few large gulps. Connor licked his lips when he saw a droplet of beer dripping into Hank’s beard and down his neck. “You missed a spot.”

“Connor, shit,” moaned Hank when Connor’s tongue met the warm skin of his neck, lapping up the drop that’d run down his skin. Connor pulled back and licked his lips. Connor knew Hank’s neck was sensitive, one of the man’s many sweet spots, and he took great pleasure in using it against him. Connor let his hand fall down to Hank’s cock where it tented his boxers, a damp spot on the tip that was likely from pre-cum rather than urine. Connor pressed the pad of his index finger to the tip and Hank hissed.

“That good?” asked Connor, though he knew the answer by the way Hank’s body reacted.   
“Yes,” said Hank breathlessly.

“Yes what?” scolded Connor, removing his hand from Hank’s cock as punishment for him forgetting his place.

“Yes sir,” corrected Hank with an apologetic look that Connor wouldn’t have caught at all behind the lust if not for his constantly evolving social module. Connor wrapped his hand back around Hank’s clothed cock, long fingers enveloping his girth and then some. Hank put a hand over his flushed face, dripping with sweat and it was easy to tell he was barely holding back anymore. 

When Connor rubbed his palm up and down Hank’s length, Hank further proved that he was hardly holding back and moaned quietly. Connor could feel urine trickle from Hank’s cock, wetting the front of his shorts.

“Did I say you could do that?” growled Connor, his eyes dark as he peeled his hand off of Hank. Despite his angry facade, he was incredibly turned on and his cock throbbed when he felt it happen under his hand.

“No sir,” mumbled Hank, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Aw, what is it, pet?” cooed Connor, his free hand coming up to cup Hank’s cheek. “Can you not hold back anymore?”

“I’m trying,” groaned Hank, his eyebrows scrunched together, evidence of his efforts.

“Try harder,” said Connor condescendingly. His hand went back up into Hank’s hair and this time he pulled him down, eye-level with his crotch. “Go on.”

Hank knew what was being asked of him and wordlessly wrapped his lips around Connor’s cock and took about half of him into his mouth, making Connor emit a small pleasured sigh. 

“There you go, baby,” praised Connor. Hank seemed to be motivated by the praise and took almost all of Connor in his mouth, bobbing his head and slowly easing the rest of Connor’s cock into his mouth. Connor was grateful for his own self-control because if not, he would have already been fucking the wet heat of Hank’s mouth without mercy. 

Though, when he thought about it, he smirked, realizing Hank would probably like that.

Connor was quick to test that theory, raising his hips ever so slightly and aiming to use Hank’s mouth. Hank seemed to get the idea quickly and stopped all movement, letting Connor put in the work of thrusting his hips up. Hank left his mouth pliant for Connor’s use and Connor genuinely shivered at the look of Hank down there, taking his cock so pretty.

“Hank, I’m not gonna last,” warned Connor, but Hank took that as a sign to take all of Connor deep in his throat. Connor let out a strangled moan and kept himself buried there, ropes of semen going down his throat with ease. Hank let out a muffled cry on Connor’s cock and Connor could feel the stream of piss entirely soaking through Hank’s shorts before it even registered that Hank had cum. Only when Hank had greedily swallowed all of his artificial cum did Connor take his softening cock out of the man’s mouth.

“I’m sorry,” said Hank immediately, though his voice was rough from the brutal usage of his throat. “You didn’t say I could…”

“It’s okay,” consoled Connor before Hank could finish his words. “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

“Yeah,” said Hank. “Alright.”


End file.
